by Beth Bolden
“But really, congrats. You seem like you’ll be good for each other,” Wyatt said, raising his glass. “It’s high time Miles stopped playing it casual and breaking hearts right and left. I’ll go get Xander, he shouldn’t sit in his room and pout all night.”
“He’s going to if he wants to,” Miles said.
“But he shouldn’t,” Wyatt replied firmly, setting his wine glass at one of the places of the big kitchen table Kian had set. And that convinced Evan once and for all that Wyatt was one of the good guys.
After he’d left the kitchen in search of Xander, Evan moved closer to Miles, bumping their shoulders together. “What happened with Nate and Wyatt?” he hissed under his breath. Curiosity was probably going to be the death of him.
Miles just shrugged though. “You met Nate, he’s insufferable.”
“But Wyatt dated him in the first place,” Evan insisted.
“Yeah, I think Nate wasn’t very happy he wouldn’t get serious and introduce him to his family. To his brothers and his nana, rather.”
“Yeah,” Kian said, wandering over. “His brothers suspect he’s gay, but his nana has no idea. She’s sort of old-school Irish Catholic and I don’t think he believes she’d understand.”
The only nice thing about being a foster kid with no family of which to speak of was that when he’d come out, there hadn’t really been anyone who cared or objected. Evan knew that it was definitely not that simple for everyone.
“I remember when I told my high school girlfriend I thought I was gay,” Miles said, “and she just laughed and told me, ‘of course you are.’”
“Yeah, not everyone is as understanding as your family, Miles,” Kian said, and Evan, who wasn’t the world’s biggest toucher generally, surprisingly wanted to hug the apprehension out of his eyes.
“It’s never easy,” Evan said, even though it had been relatively cut and dried for him. He’d already been in a fairly open foster care situation with so many kids, the guardians hadn’t really cared as long as you stayed out of trouble. Being gay hadn’t ranked anywhere with getting arrested or burning the house down, so they’d just shrugged and moved on.
“What isn’t easy?” Xander stood in the doorway, Wyatt following close behind him. “Dinner wasn’t easy? If that was the case I could have helped you out, Costa.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Dinner was no big deal. Come sit down before I decide to punch you in the face.”
But Xander did as he was told, and slumped into the seat at the head of the table, not surprising Evan at all.
The ratatouille was fragrant with oregano, basil and garlic; the zucchini and squash tender under the crusty lid of parmesan, the base soft with a zesty tomato sauce.
There was silence for a few minutes as everyone ate, sopping up the sauce with the garlic bread Miles had prepared.
“So where did you guys go today?” Kian asked.
Evan remembered how they’d crumpled the paper bag from the winery and buried it so Wyatt wouldn’t see it.
“Uh,” he said.
“A few wineries,” Miles inserted and then very casually changed the subject. “I thought we’d do a picnic lunch up by the castle tomorrow. It’s supposed to be a nice day. Wyatt, did you take care of that thing I asked you for?”
Wyatt nodded, mouth full of ratatouille. “It’ll be under your name.”
“Great, thanks.” Miles smiled over at Evan, who was trying to decide if licking his plate clean would be rude.
“That was pretty good,” Xander said. “Maybe if your video thing fails, you can go become a line cook at Olive Garden.”
“Next time, I’m going to force you to make yourself Italian food. And it probably won’t be as good as mine.” Miles’ voice still sounded kind, but he grimaced as he sipped his wine.
“What did you put in the sauce?” Wyatt asked. “There’s an earthiness in it . . .”
“Evan,” Miles said, leaning over, breath brushing his neck, which reminded him that it was only his stomach that was satisfied. “Wyatt’s nose and taste buds are legendary. He can usually figure out what’s in anything.”
“But you asked?” Evan said, crinkling his own nose.
Wyatt shrugged. “People don’t generally like it when I list their recipe out for them.”
“You mean, Xander doesn’t like it,” Kian said, laughing.
“I think it’s a wild mushroom, maybe? And red wine? A chianti?” Wyatt guessed.
“You’re half right. Dried mushrooms reconstituted in some tempranillo.”
“Damn it, that was the earthiness.” Wyatt tipped his glass to Miles. “Well, kudos for fooling me.”
Evan hadn’t really realized how much Miles was giving up by leaving Terroir and his three roommates. Yeah, he’d taken a chance on a crossroads career move, but there had been reasons for him to stay in Napa. And a lot of those reasons were sitting at the table with them.
“How did you all meet?” Evan asked. He was sort of completely desperate to go to the hotel and remind Miles just who he was dating. And this time he’d only had half a glass of wine.
“Wyatt and Miles met in culinary school. Xander went to school in New York City and we met at Terroir. And I moved in last year, after I graduated, and got Chef Aquino’s internship,” Kian said.
“You mean, Chef Aquino’s hard labor,” Xander said.
“It’s not that bad,” Kian protested. “It’s a really prestigious position.”
Evan saw the concern Xander was voicing reflected in Miles’ eyes. So Xander wasn’t off-base or even overreacting.
“That’s what they tell you to force you to take all the shit he dishes out,” Wyatt pointed out quietly.
“I’ve got an early morning,” Kian said, abruptly getting to his feet. “And I’m sure Evan and Miles have something important to do.”
“You shouldn’t push him,” Xander said under his breath after Kian had left the room.
“Yeah, if I don’t, then he keeps letting Aquino ride him. And I don’t like that either,” Wyatt said.
“It’s gotten worse since I left,” Miles stated rather than questioned.
“I swear to god, he’s obsessed with him. Kian with Aquino, I mean. And, I don’t know, maybe the other way around. It’s weird. They’re weirdly co-dependent on each other. I don’t get it.”
“I’ll put out some feelers in LA,” Miles said, getting to this feet. “Maybe we can convince him to leave. Take a job in LA.”
“Kian ever leaving Terroir and Bastian Aquino? Yeah, good luck with that,” Xander said bitterly.
Chapter Fourteen
Evan was quiet when they got into the car. Miles couldn’t help but wonder if he’d pushed him too far, or if he was tired after such a long day. Maybe he should have given him what they both wanted, when they’d first gotten to Napa. He’d undoubtedly been eager then, and even though there’d been flashes of it through the day—some white hot in their intensity—Miles sensed now that he was deep in thought.
And not about Miles naked.
“You okay?” he asked.
Evan glanced up, his toffee eyes unexpectedly bright in the dim car. They slid down Miles’ body, and Miles thought maybe he’d been overthinking earlier. Maybe nothing had changed.
“Xander really cares about Kian,” was all Evan said, which really surprised Miles.
Evan wanted to talk about Xander?
Miles figured they’d been lucky to get out of the house without Evan punching Xander in the face. Why he wanted to discuss him now, Miles had no clue.
“Despite his best efforts tonight, he’s not a jerk. I mean, he is, but not deep down. He’s just . . . disgruntled. And yes, he cares about Kian. We all do. He’s like our little brother.”
Evan made a humming noise, clearly considering what Miles had said. They passed by a streetlight, illuminating Evan’s flawless profile—elegant cheekbones, delicate nose, rosebud lips, proud chin—and Miles realized with a jolt that he had removed his bow tie sometime afte
r they’d gotten into the car for the trip to the hotel.
“Eyes forward,” Evan said, and he was clearly trying to pretend disinterest at the sudden, ravenous heat in Miles’ face, but even he couldn’t quite pull it off.
“No fair,” Miles whined. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evan flick open one button of his shirt, and then another. And then another. Miles was pathetic and that was all it took to make him hard anymore—the chance to see Evan’s bare skin.
“You made me wait all day,” Evan said. “It’s plenty fair.”
“Cruel,” Miles breathed out. Except that they both knew he liked it. Evan probably thought he’d get to control what happened when they got to the hotel, like he had the other two times they’d had sex, but Miles, while typically fairly laid-back and open in bed, was more than ready to assert himself.
And then Evan opened his mouth again. “I think Xander is in love with you.”
Miles almost swerved off the road. “No. No way. That’s just . . . that’s not possible.”
He took a quick, necessary peek to check the expression on Evan’s face. He seemed concerned but not perturbed.
“Would it make a difference if he was?” Evan asked, and there was a raw honesty in his voice that Miles had never heard before. Sometimes it was tough for Miles to even figure out how much Evan contained and held back behind the wall he’d erected between himself and the world, but hearing him now, Miles realized just how much Evan cared about him.
How much he didn’t want Miles to love Xander.
“No. Not a bit.”
He chanced another glance over at Evan. He was smiling now, just a little one, around the corners of his mouth, but it was enough. “You really mean that.”
“I mean, have you met Xander?” Miles asked.
“He’s disgruntled and bitter and a little grumpy, but he’s good-looking. And passionate. Those are two things I think you’d enjoy.”
“You’re what I enjoy,” Miles vowed.
“I certainly hope so.” The smug self-satisfaction in his voice was all Miles needed to hear to know Evan was okay.
“I can show you. Soon,” Miles said, and saw Evan flick another button open. “Soon,” he repeated, the word practically a vow.
Miles had never imagined that he would be making vows of any kind. He’d never imagined he was the sort of man who craved permanence that way, but Evan had changed everything.
“You’d better.” Evan sounded just as impatient as Miles felt.
“Another mile,” Miles said, pushing down harder on the gas. His driver’s ed teacher would have been appalled at his driving. Probably also at his life choices, but Miles didn’t really give a fuck anymore.
He whipped into the hotel parking lot. “I’ll be back with the key,” Miles said, reaching over, and leaving a brief but scorching kiss on Evan’s mouth that promised everything he meant to do to him tonight.
Even though the desk clerk seemed to be efficient, he wasn’t nearly fast enough for Miles. He pushed over his credit card across the counter and barely managed to refrain from tapping his foot on the marble floor.
Finally, he was given the room key, and he skidded out of the foyer to where he’d parked. Evan was already out of the car, leaning against the passenger side, impatient expression on his face.
And then, suddenly and unexpectedly, Evan let the ever-present wall fall and it was just the real Evan and him.
Usually he had to coax Evan out of his shell, and it felt so good to just press him against the car and not feel him hesitate before he kissed Miles back.
Instead Evan threw himself into it, and for Miles, it almost felt like the first kiss. Their first real kiss. The first time Evan kissed him and didn’t think he was making a mistake, didn’t wonder halfway through if it was the wrong thing to do.
He believed it was right and Miles was right, and Miles found that he had never believed more in the idea of the two of them against the world.
“Evan,” Miles said, lips still hovering above Evan’s. They were damp and shiny under the streetlamp and Miles almost gave in to the need coursing through him and said screw the words.
But Miles couldn’t imagine that Evan had often gotten actions or words, so the words were important.
“Why are you stopping?” Evan said. Even with the emotional wall down, Evan was still completely himself. And Miles found himself enjoying the directness.
“Because we’re still, unfortunately, outside. And I want to make love to you. Not against my car in a parking lot.”
Evan’s gaze was steady and warm. He didn’t flinch, didn’t cower, and didn’t try to stop Miles. Didn’t try to take control and make sure that Miles was too lost in pleasure to notice that Evan was still holding him at arm’s length.
“Okay.”
* * *
It was so hard to resist the urge to push, to rush, to devour Evan, but Miles held back by the skin of his teeth as they walked to the room. He’d even reached out and grasped Evan’s hand, and Evan had let him.
Finally, they were in the room, the door was closing behind them, and Miles was free to do what he’d been longing to do all damn day.
He led Evan to the bed and kissed him, slow, but definitely not gentle. Miles poured every ounce of desire and love into the kiss, hands grasping Evan tightly around the waist, and then tugging out the shirt he’d tucked into his jeans.
“No khakis today, huh?” Miles murmured as his lips coasted down Evan’s neck, pausing to nibble on his earlobe. “Taking a break in driving me insane?”
There was a definite catch in Evan’s throat as Miles plucked open more buttons, his lips moving downwards across his exposed collarbones. They were so delicate, a delicious incongruity with his strength. Miles would be lying if he said that didn’t really turn him on.
“I wasn’t sure you could handle the khakis,” Evan said.
“You’re not wrong,” Miles admitted ruefully.
“I almost wished I’d worn them,” Evan admitted as Miles finished unbuttoning his shirt, and pushed it off his shoulders. Miles’ mouth covered a firm pec muscle, then nibbled not very gently on his nipple. Evan gasped.
“Because I deserved it?”
“No,” Evan said on another gasp as Miles’ mouth moved to the other nipple. “Because I was jealous.”
The idea was ludicrous but Miles didn’t laugh because one, he had his tongue on Evan’s glorious bare skin, pale and smooth and taut with the perfect amount of muscle, and two, this was Xander they were talking about. He couldn’t even conceive of ditching Evan for Xander.
Miles’ hands unbuckled Evan’s belt. His cock was hard and there was an unmistakable wet patch on his boxer briefs. Just as Miles hoped, Evan gasped even louder, and suddenly he hoped, despite what he’d experienced so far, that Evan was loud and expressive in bed.
It was hard to imagine any interaction between them being devoid of a power struggle, but unlike the frustration that had dogged them before, Miles was definitely turned on by it.
“Maybe,” he gasped himself, undone by Evan bucking firmly into his palm, “we just should have been fucking from the beginning.”
Evan’s look as Miles pushed him back onto the bed, and rid him of the rest of his clothes, was hot. Intimate. Everything Miles had really wanted, even back then, and had never expected to get.
“Maybe we should just fuck now,” Evan said, purring as he flipped over and pushed himself up, sending a spike of unrestrained lust through Miles.
Miles was still fully clothed and despite Evan’s wandering hands, hadn’t really been touched since they’d left the house. He was still suddenly in very grave danger of coming in his pants.
“I . . . I . . .” Miles stammered, undone by the sight in front of him. Evan was glorious naked, the most beautiful man Miles had ever seen. He couldn’t have even fantasized about how good he would look like this. “I was going to take it slow.”
Evan’s glance over his shoulder was scorching. “Not after t
his whole day, you’re not.”
Some things, Miles realized, were inevitable and not worth fighting.
He grabbed the lube and a condom from his bag and shed his clothes so quickly, he was almost afraid he lost a few buttons.
But instead of immediately prepping Evan to take him, Miles leaned onto the bed and covered Evan’s body with his own, skin to skin. Letting him feel how hard he was, how wet at the tip, just from touching Evan and seeing him naked.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered into Evan’s ear as he kissed his neck. “So fucking glorious.”
“I know,” Evan said, so smug that Miles couldn’t help but love him even more. “Now stop fucking around and fuck me.”
Miles would have been very stupid to argue at that point.
His hands smoothed over the curve of the ass he’d been watching and worshipping for so many weeks. Evan made a low groan as Miles carefully circled his hole with a wet finger.
“Stop teasing,” Evan groaned as his body clutched around the digit Miles slid into him. “Goddamn it, Miles.”
“If you’re still talking,” Miles said with a grin, “I’m not doing it right.”
“Exactly,” Evan wrenched out, as Miles pulled his finger out, only to slide two back in.
Evan felt so incredible, tight and hot, around his fingers, his body greedily clutching to them as Miles finger fucked him. He had a sudden, horrifying thought that he wouldn’t be able to make it good. Make it last.
“Slow down a little,” Miles panted, which was embarrassing because he wasn’t even the one being fucked.
Evan pushed his body right back on Miles’ fingers at that particular demand. “No.”
Taking a deep breath, Miles knew they’d waited long enough. He knew he could please his man. Felt it in his bones. It was time to show him just how much he cared about him.
He made short work of the condom, and slid his fingers around Evan’s cock, circling it firmly as he began to push his dick into Evan. Pleasure short-circuited his brain, fierce and electric. He could only swear as he bottomed out, gripping Evan’s hip and his cock.